


Distract Me

by GwendolynGreene



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Morning After, Non-Explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:26:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4332042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynGreene/pseuds/GwendolynGreene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire shifted, inhaling and opening her eyes. This wasn’t her bedroom. That was to be expected, really, since she’d already established this wasn’t her bed. And still breaking through the haze of sleep she had a pretty strong guess who it was lying beside her, giving off so much heat.</p><p>Slowly letting that first breath out, she turned her head to the side and met the unmistakable gaze of Owen Grady.</p><p>--<br/>SUMMARY:<br/>After the events of Jurassic World occur, Claire and Owen spend the night together. In the morning, Claire receives an unwelcome call and Owen tries to distract her from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, since it has been requested, I am currently working on writing another chapter to this work. It was only intended to be a one-shot but I'll see how far I can take this. I am going to try to keep it at an M rating, however, so no explicit sex scenes. It will come up, but I'm still working on writing those kinds of scenes so they won't be put into this work. Enjoy!

Claire Dearing was drifting in that place right between sleeping and awake. First, she registered the mattress underneath her. Then the blanket on top of her. She always slept alone in her own bed, had done that for years. But contrary to popular opinion that didn’t make it lonely – or deserving of all the nasty comments from people like her sister who got a little too interested in her personal life (or specifically her lack of one.) But she never had a problem with it. It was everyone else who had a problem with it.

But today something was different. The mattress was harder. The blanket was softer. She wasn’t wearing her pyjamas. And the thought that she would be alone in her bed like all other mornings was blasted away as she felt two fingers gently graze up her side.

Claire shifted, inhaling and opening her eyes. This wasn’t her bedroom. That was to be expected, really, since she’d already established this wasn’t her bed. And still breaking through the haze of sleep she had a pretty strong guess who it was lying beside her, giving off so much heat.

Slowly letting that first breath out, she turned her head to the side and met the unmistakable gaze of Owen Grady. Memories of what had happened the last two days chose this moment to start coming back to her. The Indominus rex. The aviary. The raptors. Then the T-rex. Her nephews, safe. Then it was just her and Owen, sticking together for…survival.

And for that second date. If you could call that a second date. Given the disaster of a first date they’d had, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. After Zach and Gray had been left with their mom and dad and they’d said their goodbyes, Claire and Owen had made sure no one else needed their help – they didn’t – and had walked off Isla Nublar for the first time together.

Press had been everywhere. Everyone wanted to know just what had happened and who was responsible. Claire was the Senior Assets Manager, after all, so everyone flocked around her and Owen. After everything that had happened she didn’t have the energy to do anything. Didn’t have the mind to say anything just yet. So she brushed through the crown, uttering “No comment.” to everyone that asked. Owen thankfully followed suit. Eventually they got out of the crowd and found their way to a hotel room.

Owen showered first. On top of all the sweat, the dirt, and the debris he was covered in, he’d also sprayed himself with gasoline to escape Indominus the first time. Once he was done, Claire had required a bit of coaxing to get out of her seat by the window and get in the shower. She was almost sure that Owen had stood outside the bathroom door the whole time, making sure she was okay. The water helped pull her out of her own mind, helped escape the thoughts of what now?

Because no one really had any idea What Now. They’d ordered dinner through room service, tried to talk about anything but dinosaurs, and somehow managed to turn it into a better second date than their first. It was when they finally did mention any of the events from the day previous that the night turned on them. Owen had thanked her for saving his hide with the Dimorphodon that had attacked him. He’d already thanked her, in sort, with a kiss the day before. He’d felt it necessary, however, to “thank” her again. And again. Eventually the thanking moved to the bed, where they were lying now.

Claire smirked, eyes still locked with Owen’s. Owen was already smiling, so he returned the gesture by spreading his own grin wider. It was almost comical. Claire’s smirk turned into her own little smile and Owen reached out with one hand and placed it on the back of her head. She leaned in willingly, meeting his lips for another kiss. Another strong arm snaked over her back and she followed it until she was straddling Owen’s hips again, meeting each of his kisses with equal fervor.

She was beginning to get breathless when her phone rang. They both stopped dead, looking with disbelief at the cell phone sitting on the nightstand. How that thing survived, let alone still had power, was a mystery to Claire. She would have to see if the hotel front desk had a spare charger she could use because there will undoubtedly be press conferences, she will have to make a statement, check to see how many employees had been evacuated, how many guests survived, if all the animals had been secured, _Oh God_ what had happened with all the embryos from the lab, there were questions she would have to answer that no one else could, Masrani was dead, legal would be working overtime for months until the entire mess would be sorted out, _Masrani was dead_ , there would have to be a memorial service for everyone who died…she had to take the call. 

She reached reluctantly for her phone. Owen’s arms released her so Claire could sit up. She was unsure if she should get off of him, but Owen settled his hands on her hips, so he must want her to stay. She wasn’t complaining.

The screen showed it was Roger Perlman, from the Legal Department. She’d interacted with him before on professional matters but only knew him to be a stuffy paper pusher. She answered the call, bringing it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Claire, thank God.” The voice on the other end sounded panicked. “I did a head count on the island, and you weren’t there,”

“No, I- I’m fine. I got out. No, no. I’m not hurt. Yes, I’m sure I’m fine.” Owen was being very distracting. He kept massaging her hips with his hands, reaching further and further down, until he had both of her ass cheeks in hand and gave them one hard squeeze. “I’m aware of that, sir.” She looked down at Owen, cocking an eyebrow. He grinned mischievously back.

“You have no idea the amount of pressure we’re getting from the press right now, Claire.”

“Well, sir, I think it’s only fair that-” Owen began to roll his hips up, rocking Claire where she sat. She brushed her hair out of her face with her right hand, and when Owen kept rolling his hips, she placed it on his chest for balance. Yeah, it was for balance. “Mmm Hmm.” Claire mumbled into the phone, but was heard by Owen nonetheless. Roger kept nattering on in her ear, and it was becoming very hard to hear a word he was saying what with an impatient Owen trapped underneath her. 

“Yes, sir, I-” She was cut off again as Owen sat up, hands tracing up her back, to kiss at her collarbone. Stubble scratched at her chest, then her neck.

She couldn’t do this now. She was busy. “Alright, that’s it. You know what?” Owen pulled back, staring up at her like a deer in the headlights. He froze. The phone had gone silent for the first time on the call. “I just spent an entire day being chased by prehistoric animals, nearly got eaten alive on _more than one occasion_ , and had two of the largest creatures ever to grace this planet fight a battle to the death _ten feet in front of me, Roger, I think I deserve a day off!_ ” Angrily, she hangs up on him and tosses the phone somewhere over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around Owen’s neck, and diving back into his embrace. Owen was only too eager to wrap his arms around her again, tugging at the tank top she’d put back on after washing it in the sink the day before, pulling it over her head, and reminding her the benefits of relinquishing control every now and then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Owen have to leave the hotel room and all Claire can think about is the lives lost on Isla Nublar. Owen tries to distract her once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, a big thank you to everyone that read chapter one, especially to the people who commented asking for a chapter 2! Here it is. (In case anyone is wondering, I've decided to keep this piece at an M rating so I won't be getting into the sex in too much detail.) Have fun!

Owen Grady seemed to perpetually smell like earth and gasoline. He’d already taken two showers since escaping Isla Nublar, and considering Claire Dearing had been present to witness that he did in fact use soap to wash himself (among engaging in other activities) during the second shower, one would think the smell would have dissipated by now. It seemed, however, that the smell would be sticking around.

Not that Claire minded, really. It reminded her that she was no longer in the world of pressed suits, spreadsheets, and blinking monitors. That world had fallen apart literally right in front of her. And soon she would have to answer for that. But for now at least, it was just her and Owen.

Admittedly, it was an odd request, calling down to the hotel front desk for a pair of pants. If Owen had his way, he’d keep her in no more than that tank top for as long as he lived, but all of their belongings had been left behind on the island and Claire’s poor skirt had been torn nearly to shreds. Owen’s clothes hadn’t fared much better. They would both have to go out and buy new ones. The concierge showed up at their door with the pants, something they’d located in the lost and found bin, and Owen had been the one who’d answered the door to retrieve them. 

Half naked himself, mind you, but Claire wasn’t one to answer the door in her underwear. He turned back around, thumb stuck through the top of his jeans, chest still glistening from that second shower and the sweat they’d worked up _in_ it. Claire stepped forward, reaching to grab the pants from his grip. Owen lifted them up above his head, grinning his mischievous smile. Claire huffed quietly, but allowed his other arm to weave itself around her again, pulling her in. They wrestled like that, never breaking the kiss, each vying to take control of the pants.

Owen’s strategy was to keep them as high as he could and never keep them in one place for more than a second. And since Claire’s eyes kept closing themselves, it was working. She snatched at his wrist, but he held onto her waist and she couldn’t move anywhere. Without her heels Owen was too tall for her to reach.

Instead, she grabbed onto the back of his head, kissing him as deeply and passionately as she could in that moment. It worked. Owen leaned in, groaning in the back of his throat, and faltered long enough that Claire was able to launch up from her tippy toes to grab the black slacks from his grip. Once he felt them leave his grasp, he pulled back.

“Hey!” Owen sounded mildly offended. He didn’t expect Claire to pull a dirty trick like that. He used both of his hands to wrap around her waist, getting in close enough to speak just against her lips. “You know, if you put those on, I’m just gonna have to get you out of them again.”

Oh Boy, did that sultry voice of his get to her every time she heard it. “Mmm” she moaned against his mouth. She planted a quick, sharp kiss on his lips before pulling away completely. “Later. Now put your shirt on.”

Owen huffed. He did as told, but certainly put a lot of effort into stretching his arms wide, flexing all the muscles in his chest, and flaunting himself around the hotel room before he was finally dressed.

The borrowed pants ended up fitting better than Claire would have expected. They hung looser and sat lower on her hips than she would have liked, but as far as she was concerned, she only had to make it to a shop without Owen undressing her again and she was set. They stuck together throughout the day, putting all their purchases on Claire’s card, which was still paid for by the company as far as she knew. They didn’t get much, just enough to get by until they found someplace more permanent for them to stay, figure out where they would be headed next. The company would probably move them all to one location when the trials started, so they could all be central.

Once again, Claire tried to push all of those thoughts to the back of her head. It didn’t work, though, since every time she’d look at a garment, she’d consider whether or not she could wear it in front of the press. In front of a jury. In front of the victim’s families. Owen remained playful as usual but thankfully dialed it back a bit while they were in public. There was still the threat of press finding them or someone recognizing Claire from the news. It’d only taken one second of turning the TV on in their hotel room to find out what a bad idea that was. Dinosaurs break loose upon thousands of people on Jurassic World? Yeah, that’s pretty much dominating all of the headlines and news broadcasts. A lot of people were blaming Claire. And Owen had a feeling that Claire was one of those people.

By the time they’d gotten back to their room, dropping their bags onto the floor, Owen had definitely noticed her change in demeanor. Her eyes kept looking off into the distance, head hanging lower than normal, mouth sitting in one firm, straight line. When she slumped down in the chair by the window, she felt exactly as she had when they’d first gotten here. Her back was slumped, hands lying idle in her lap.

Then Owen’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Claire?” he asked softly.

Claire didn’t respond at first. Just stared out the window. Then after a few moments she shook her head. “All those people…”

Owen immediately pulled her into his chest, which miraculously was still covered by his shirt. Her head fell into the spot right where his neck met his shoulder and she let him hold her there. 

Claire tried to continue. “All those people, and I’m the one responsible…”

“Shh…no you’re not.”

“I- I could’ve done – done what you said! – at the very beginning, evacuated the island! I should’ve…”

“No. That’s enough. Even if you’d given the order, you would’ve had ten big wigs behind you stopping it from happening. Masrani wouldn’t have let it happen.”

“Yeah, and where’s he now?”

Owen didn’t answer. He just let Claire sit there, crying ever so slightly into his shoulder. When it sounded like she’d stopped crying, Owen pulled her away.

“All right then, go.”

Claire looked at him with her eyebrows arched. “Go?”

“Yeah, go hop in your time machine. Dial it back a couple of days. Change everything that happened that you, Claire Dearing, baddest bitch I know, feel you and you alone are personally responsible for.” Claire was staring at him the whole time. Then she just turned her head away and let out the tiniest breath of a laugh. “What, you don’t have a time machine? See, I’d let you use mine but it appears to be on the fritz today.” Claire laughed again. God, what a beautiful sound that was. She wiped at her eyes, clearing away her previous tears. “Well, looks like you’re just gonna have to accept what happened is _what happened_ and move forward from there.”

Claire let out a long exhale, eyes closed. She was starting to look like her normal self again, much to Owen’s relief.

“That’s where I’m headed. You comin’ along?” Owen held out his hand for Claire to take, rising to his feet. She glanced up to his face, which was looking at her all business. Claire let out another breath, slowly. He was right. Of course he was right. There wasn’t a single way she could change what happened. If she wallowed in it forever, it would destroy her. She reached out her hand, placing it into Owen’s outstretched one. She had to move on.

As she moved to her feet and into Owen’s embrace again, all she could think of was _“For survival.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There ya have it! Let me know if you liked it. There will be at least one more chapter in this work, and I'm thinking of writing a sequel that delves deeper into plot. Keep your eye out...
> 
> I'm still amazed at the reception the first chapter got; as I am posting this chapter this fic already has more views than the first chapter has words. Just you reading it is already amazing so I can't thank you enough, but Kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Visit my [Tumblr](http://www.gwendolyngreene.tumblr.com) for all of my posted works.
> 
> Thank You for reading!
> 
> -GG


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Owen prepare to leave the hotel. As the real world presses on them once again, they need to distract each other to stay on track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A huge thank you to anyone who stuck with me on this story. It's taken me a while to update because a bunch of things came up. This is the final chapter of this story, but keep your eyes out for **Don't Distract Me** , the sequel. Not sure how many chapters it will be, but expect it to be much more plot-intense.)

The light leaking in from the window was warm. It had the orange glow of a just-rising sun and Claire watched as it slowly broke over every object in its path, from glistening rooftop to each strong branch on the trees across the way. It moved slowly, as if taking the time to introduce everything it graced to the new day. It filled the room, brightening the air within, and filled everything with a strong sense of calm.

Calm. That was something Claire knew would be hard to find in the next couple of weeks. But right now, with the warm light basking over the room, with the soft pillow underneath her head, and Owen’s strong arm draped over her side, everything in this moment felt _perfect_. She didn’t want to change a thing.

Her fingers were woven in between Owen’s and his breathing was low and steady behind her and Claire stayed like that until long past the sun had fully risen. Eventually Owen grunted softly behind her, shifting underneath the sheets. As his fingers squeezed Claire’s ever so slightly, he mumbled under his breath a good morning. It took Claire a moment to register it before she could return it. Owen didn’t comment on the pause. Claire finally dragged her eyes away from the window.

They didn’t talk much. They moved around the hotel room quietly, making sure they’d gathered all of their things, packed them into bags, and waited for the call.

They’d spoken to Roger again last night. The trials were going to be starting soon, and as Claire suspected, they were moving everyone central. The nice, neat little bubble Claire and Owen had created within this hotel room was about to burst and they were going to be thrust into the real world. They’d already had a taste of the real world, when they foolishly turned on the TV only to see news footage of the island splashed over all of the TV stations. Now it was high time they had to face it.

Claire was beginning to feel better about the whole thing; Owen had gotten her to give up blaming herself for the disaster. Claire still felt horrible, but at least could face the press and their accusations without shutting down. Roger had said something about a therapist where they would all be moved, but neither of them had yet accepted the offer. They figured it wouldn’t be optional, anyways. Perhaps it would help. Owen at least had worked with people who’d had to seek help back in the Navy, but it was all new to Claire.

It was a small hotel room, and they had very few belongings left, so after stashing all the little shampoo packets from the bathroom, Claire stood aimlessly in the centre of the room. Owen came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Feeling his breath on the back of her neck, Claire sighed and closed her eyes.

Owen began to place kisses along her neck. He hadn’t shaved since they’d gotten off the island, so he was really starting to scratch her up. It had stopped tickling, though, so Claire wasn’t complaining. His motions lulled her, and her head tipped to the side to graze against his.

His hands began exploring her, wandering over her silk shirt. His fingers found their way underneath he fabric and began to pull up. His hands were warm against her skin, but she inhaled sharply at the contact. She turned her head to catch his lips again. She placed her hands over his, guiding them.

They were playing it awfully close, given how little time they had. They didn’t dare start anything more but Owen was starting to not care about the growing hardness in his pants as they continued. The more Claire could feel it pressing against her, the harder he was kissing her. They were both just about to say _Fuck it_ when Claire’s telltale ringtone chimed out. The pair broke apart, visibly unsatisfied. Owen pulled his hands out from Claire’s shirt, allowing her to brush it flat. She stepped toward the nightstand, picking up the last unpacked item in the room. She lifted the phone, peering at Roger’s name flashing on the screen. She turned stiffly around, dropping it in the last bag without even answering it.

She brought her eyes up to meet Owen’s once more.

_Are you ready?_

And he looked back.

_Ready as I’ll ever be._

Owen gathered Claire’s hands up, which she hadn’t realized were tightened into fists, and kissed her knuckles. She breathed slowly out, releasing all of the tension in her hands, allowing them the lay flat. They each grabbed a bag, walking toward the door. Claire moved the sunglasses sitting on top of her head to mask her eyes as Owen turned the doorknob.

There was a sudden rush of people approaching as they stepped out. Cameras were shoved in their faces and questions were tossed at them from every direction. Her sunglasses hid it well so the only betrayal of any surprise on Claire’s face came from the slight opening between her lips. Owen’s face only hardened. He had to stifle the instinct the grab Claire’s hand as they pushed through the crowd. Two large men wearing black ties approached and helped part the sea of people, creating a pathway straight to a black SUV parked at the curb.

They moved as quickly as the mob would allow. They were still hurling questions at Claire but she couldn’t even decipher words through the jumble of sounds. The camera flashes were almost blinding as they settled into the back seat of the car. The men wearing the ties took over, shouting to move out of the way as they got back into the vehicle. The back windows were tinted. Claire took off her sunglasses, resting them back on top of her head. Bags discarded on the floor, Owen and Claire resumed their broken eye contact from before, allowing it to distract them from the crowd and the world as the car began to pull away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! That's it for this story, but keep your eyes peeled for the sequel I have planned, called **Don't Distract Me**. I don't have any plans as to when I'll be posting it, but expect it to be much more plot-intense.
> 
> Once again, any and all Kudos or comments would be much appreciated! Feel free to share it with your friends.
> 
> Visit my [Tumblr](http://www.gwendolyngreene.tumblr.com) for all of my posted works.
> 
> Thank You for reading!
> 
> -GG


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